


and in the darkness bind them

by pancakesandplaid



Category: The Hobbit (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:15:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pancakesandplaid/pseuds/pancakesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He left behind the rolling hills of the Shire and leapt into the darkness of Erebor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and in the darkness bind them

He was born to the evergreen hills, the gently flowing rivers, to bright days and quiet chatter of Shirelings.

It was a place that had not seen nor needed weapons for over an age or two.

Here he tended to earth, indulged in fine food and read books by the warmth of his hearth as time passed in slow peace. Here he was bothered only by uninvited relatives and unwelcome lasses seeking for what he did not want to give.

 

They whispered things about him - that he had turned rather queer all of a sudden. That there was no warning, that perhaps jealousy has driven someone to ruin his reputation.

That he was forced, dragged against his will to places far beyond, over the hill and across the water.

 

The truth was that he was willing.

 

 

 _He_ was born in stone walls and the black that stretches far under. In sturdy walls and deep mines, where his people dug and dug for jewels and metals, made things that put other craftsmen in awe.

He did not make small talk, did not care for senseless gossip.

Always he turned his gaze north-east, solemn and grieving.

He did not care for the growing of things or for the feeling of lush grass beneath bare feet.

Time passed quickly by his side.

Blood was shed and scars earned.

 

 

Propriety of halflings be damned.

He left behind the rolling hills of the Shire and leapt into the darkness of Erebor. Into a place where weapons were crafted and blood had just been shed.

He cared not if he was not suited for the wild, for aggression or for where no sunlight shone.

To the Dwarf-King he could give what he would not to lasses of the Shire.

He held thick calloused hands in his less-damaged ones.

The King bestowed him a gift unparalleled by all the treasures in Arda.

 

He was born to the evergreen hills and gently flowing rivers of the Shire.

In the black reaches of Erebor was where he found home.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a Hades/Persephone parallel to Bilbo and Thorin.


End file.
